I recently got back from Finland, and had an amazing time, so thought I'd try to write a little diary of what I got up to, mainly because I havent done much travelling (if this fits under the category of 'travelling'?) and want to make sure I have as much written down as possible to look back on. Its probably not particularly exciting or interesting to anyone but me. The only possible benefit it would give any reader is that they wont have to actually talk to me about my trip, and hear me drone on about how "amazing the people were" or how "its changed me man, it really has...." like all people who've ever been on a gap year always do over, and over again.
Day One
So this was my first time flying by myself, so it felt a little weird. Nicole suggested I just treat it like a train journey, and she was right, although it was considerably shorter and less irritating than getting the train to Weymouth. Without someone with me to share the excitement of the trip and turn it into a big 'occasion', the whole thing passed along like a journey to the office. Its not like I havent taken many flights in my life, but I've never done enough to get to the stage where I don't feel all Final Destination/Die Hard 2/United 93, and think about what would happen if the plane crashed or exploded, or both. I didnt really get that feeling on this flight so much, and I put this down to being alone, it was only going to me plunging into the Baltic Sea, and not any of my loved ones. What a ruddy selfless, caring guy I am.
I'd been to Helsinki before, so knew what bus I was going to get into the center of the city to meet Osmo, but had totally forgotten any of the Finnish I had previously learned, so had to use English even for the first, tiny, super simple transaction of buying a bus ticket.
Osmo had a DJ gig, so Sebu, one of his friends I'd met before was going to be picking me up from the bus station. Whilst I waited in the freezing cold, already cursing my decision to choose Converse rather than the hiking boots in my bag, I got asked by at least two people in Finnish if I had a lighter or a cigarette. The idiotic part of my brain that feels I'm above the usual wanky english tourists was swelling at even this tiny victory.
Osmo's friend Sebu turned up quickly and took me over to the bar/club Osmo was DJ-ing at. Sebu's a lovely bloke, who speaks perfect english with an American accent, picked up from learning at an International School. The first time I met him a couple of years ago I actually thought he was an American. The bar actually looked more like a restaurant, and like a lot of Helsinki, was very spacious and relaxed in comparison with London.
It was really good seeing Osmo again, I think the shared bond of having worked at the Hellhole (tm) that is a certain well known portrait studio together means that we greet each other like survivors of a dark, terrible, slightly nerdy war.
Osmo was DJing as his ironic alter ego Tony Almond, something he created because he doesnt take Djing too seriously, so I wasnt partucuarly suprised to see he had grown a properly thick moustache. Later it turned out that he had actually grown to like this facial accessory, but luckily it suited him.
DJ Tony Almond on the decks (laptop)Day One
So this was my first time flying by myself, so it felt a little weird. Nicole suggested I just treat it like a train journey, and she was right, although it was considerably shorter and less irritating than getting the train to Weymouth. Without someone with me to share the excitement of the trip and turn it into a big 'occasion', the whole thing passed along like a journey to the office. Its not like I havent taken many flights in my life, but I've never done enough to get to the stage where I don't feel all Final Destination/Die Hard 2/United 93, and think about what would happen if the plane crashed or exploded, or both. I didnt really get that feeling on this flight so much, and I put this down to being alone, it was only going to me plunging into the Baltic Sea, and not any of my loved ones. What a ruddy selfless, caring guy I am.
I'd been to Helsinki before, so knew what bus I was going to get into the center of the city to meet Osmo, but had totally forgotten any of the Finnish I had previously learned, so had to use English even for the first, tiny, super simple transaction of buying a bus ticket.
Osmo had a DJ gig, so Sebu, one of his friends I'd met before was going to be picking me up from the bus station. Whilst I waited in the freezing cold, already cursing my decision to choose Converse rather than the hiking boots in my bag, I got asked by at least two people in Finnish if I had a lighter or a cigarette. The idiotic part of my brain that feels I'm above the usual wanky english tourists was swelling at even this tiny victory.
Osmo's friend Sebu turned up quickly and took me over to the bar/club Osmo was DJ-ing at. Sebu's a lovely bloke, who speaks perfect english with an American accent, picked up from learning at an International School. The first time I met him a couple of years ago I actually thought he was an American. The bar actually looked more like a restaurant, and like a lot of Helsinki, was very spacious and relaxed in comparison with London.
It was really good seeing Osmo again, I think the shared bond of having worked at the Hellhole (tm) that is a certain well known portrait studio together means that we greet each other like survivors of a dark, terrible, slightly nerdy war.
Osmo was DJing as his ironic alter ego Tony Almond, something he created because he doesnt take Djing too seriously, so I wasnt partucuarly suprised to see he had grown a properly thick moustache. Later it turned out that he had actually grown to like this facial accessory, but luckily it suited him.
For some reason, a big group game of table tennis was going on just in front of the DJ decks. We all joined in from time to time, the only girl to play actually turned out to be the Finnish Table Tennis champion, I think the bar was probably a good place for her to meet men, since she was centre of attention, and clearly the alpha female of the room. I can officially say I have returned service against the Finnish Table Tennis Champion.
Ping Pong! Thats the Finnish Table Tennis Champion in the middle at the back of the table.
After leaving the bar, I fell over in the snow in front of everyone for the first, but certainly not last time on my trip, before going back home to sleep.
1 comment:
Did you score a goal against her at table tennis?
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